...Roman Polanski and Sharon Tate are/were phony, shallow people (look at that stupid ascot). Charles Manson was not phony or shallow.
Friday, August 30, 2019
Charles Manson: Sick City
Sick city, yeah, restless people
From the sick city
Burnt their home down
To make the sky look pretty
What can I do, I'm just a person
This is the line we always seem to hear
You just sit, things get worse
And watch TV and drink your beer
Walking all alone
Not going anywhere
Walking all alone
Nobody seemed to care
Restless as the wind
This town is killing me
Got to put an end to this restless misery
I'm just one of those restless people
Can never seem to be satisfied
With living in this sick sick sick old
Sick city
It may be too late for me to say goodbye
And I might be too late
To watch this sick old city die
Gone on the road
Yeah, I'm gonna try to say
Sick city, so long, goodbye and die
Who has twisted us around like this
Rilke (from the Eighth Elegy):
And we: spectators, always, everywhere,
turned toward the world of objects, never outward.
It fills us. We arrange it. It breaks down.
We rearrange it, then break down ourselves.
Who has twisted us around like this, so that
no matter what we do, we are in the posture
of someone going away? Just as, upon
the farthest hill, which shows him his whole valley
one last time, he turns, stops, lingers----
so we live here, forever taking leave.
Charles Manson:
The people you chose to raise me beat and raped me and taught me to hate and fear. From what I have seen throughout my life, the laws of the land are practiced only by the little guy. Those who have money and success abuse every law written and get away with it. I admit my reasoning comes from the wrong side of the tracks, but once these opinions are formed and reinforced a few times, it is hard to believe otherwise. So even if I don’t shed a tear, I console myself: I had some help in becoming the person I am.
 |
| Rilke |
 |
| Manson |
Day 1 of 5-Day Vacation
Always grand plans for a few vacation days... This upcoming stretch I feel actually relaxed and good about.
I left work having kicked ass in the days prior. Plus: a co-worker I don't trust, either personally or work-wise, is now out for the next few months --- leaving a co-worker I DO very much trust in charge of a major project that we share.
Day One: Woke up at 7am. Went back to sleep. Woke up again at 10am. Swam. Ate, read "Helter Skelter," went back to sleep. Dusk: Woke up, fed cats both inside and out, went and bought beer, put together a small bookshelf that I'd ordered for my overflowing poetry main shelf and also transferred "kids' books" and "Mythology" to these shelves.
p.s. Cats, and my cats, are so interesting and interested in everything around them. Half of the fun of putting my shelf together and arranging the books was watching how my cats interacted with everything that was going on.
Tuesday, August 27, 2019
The Beatles: She Loves You (1963 in Manchester)
Paul has the greatest spirit! :) Check out any of the early Beatles performances: He's always obviously, charmingly, geekily excited to be singing for you!
GREASE: John Travolta and Olivia Newton John - You're the One That I Want
Pure joy for me at age 13! And look how truly great John Travolta is!
Rizzo in GREASE: "Look at Me, I'm Sandra Dee"
While Tipper Gore's daughter set off a national firestorm in 1985 by listening to Prince's "Darling Nikki" in her mother's presence, I and my fellow 13-year-old neighborhood girlfriends got in more local trouble in 1978 for singing this song at the top of our lungs around our houses. (Pretty sure that it was the "lousy with virginity" line that tipped most of the mothers off; otherwise, I don't think they would have noticed.)
A funny side-note: After seeing the film with me at the theater, my mother actually expressed her official disapproval of the ending of "Grease," wherein Sandy "goes bad" by putting on spandex pants and teasing her hair. Even I knew, at age 13, that it was all in fun. (Except---see the next song--- I kind of DID want a bad boy like that, and to dance with a bad boy like that! Sandy's transformation was actually exhilarating!)
A funny side-note: After seeing the film with me at the theater, my mother actually expressed her official disapproval of the ending of "Grease," wherein Sandy "goes bad" by putting on spandex pants and teasing her hair. Even I knew, at age 13, that it was all in fun. (Except---see the next song--- I kind of DID want a bad boy like that, and to dance with a bad boy like that! Sandy's transformation was actually exhilarating!)
Monday, August 26, 2019
George Jones: The Girl at the End of the Bar (1983)
If you'd ever been drinking
I know that you'd seen her
At the end of the bar all alone
She knows what you're thinking
When you try to approach her
And anything you say might be wrong.
She's not there for company
She don't like to remember
She once let herself go too far
She's not there to complain
She just wants to remain
The girl at the end of the bar.
The girl at the end of the bar
Who once let herself go too far
Now carries love like a scar
The girl at the end of the bar
She's had so many hard knocks
She don't play the jukebox
She's lived all those sad songs first hand
What's made her so bitter
And why love has quit her
Is because she has loved the wrong man.
The smile she's not wearing
Is the sign she's not caring
And it's part of her permanent scar
She's not there to complain
She just wants to remain
The girl at the end of the bar.
She's the girl at the end of the bar
Sunday, August 25, 2019
Thursday, August 22, 2019
Wednesday, August 21, 2019
Monday, August 19, 2019
New York City: 1911
Along with the beauty... every single one of these people are dead.
Poet Ezra Pound once insisted on the foremost importance of "place." I agree. But also, the character of the people make "the place." New York City today, for instance, is a junk heap. In 1911, it clearly was not.
Visitations
Woke up Monday morning after a vivid series of "visitations" from someone I once knew (who's still, presumably, alive).
Five or six different dream scenarios:
The First: "Angela" from "The Office," in "The Office" setting, was telling many of us gathered around about someone she knew going through difficulties, without mentioning a name. I was listening and suddenly figured out that she was talking about someone that I also knew. Small talk about "what a small world."
Next couple of scenarios: The person I knew was speaking directly to me, as if via a screen. She appeared in two different outfits. I could not understand her completely, but I sensed that her sister was about to die.
Final scenarios: The woman was with me in an academic setting, something like a president-of-a-university's office, with lots of wood paneling and heavy, lush furniture. She was an honored guest. Officials were milling about, greeting her. I felt like someone important for hosting her. I was in charge of the entertainment, and I provided her with a country artist (who had Tim McGraw's face but was running around on stage like Garth Brooks. I felt embarrassed because I wanted her to like the music that I liked, but these guys were embarrassing). The country show included a pre-teen girl making jokes. The person I knew/guest of honor then accused me of being sexually attracted to the girl. Knowing myself as having a pattern of being attracted to older people, and knowing the guest as being someone who was sexually abused as a girl, I protested. Woke up protesting.
I haven't been in touch with this person for more than a year. This dream aroused very powerful feelings. A deep concern, a want/need to protect her... and then, ultimately, also a deep need to protect MYSELF, to avoid being profoundly misunderstood.
Five or six different dream scenarios:
The First: "Angela" from "The Office," in "The Office" setting, was telling many of us gathered around about someone she knew going through difficulties, without mentioning a name. I was listening and suddenly figured out that she was talking about someone that I also knew. Small talk about "what a small world."
Next couple of scenarios: The person I knew was speaking directly to me, as if via a screen. She appeared in two different outfits. I could not understand her completely, but I sensed that her sister was about to die.
Final scenarios: The woman was with me in an academic setting, something like a president-of-a-university's office, with lots of wood paneling and heavy, lush furniture. She was an honored guest. Officials were milling about, greeting her. I felt like someone important for hosting her. I was in charge of the entertainment, and I provided her with a country artist (who had Tim McGraw's face but was running around on stage like Garth Brooks. I felt embarrassed because I wanted her to like the music that I liked, but these guys were embarrassing). The country show included a pre-teen girl making jokes. The person I knew/guest of honor then accused me of being sexually attracted to the girl. Knowing myself as having a pattern of being attracted to older people, and knowing the guest as being someone who was sexually abused as a girl, I protested. Woke up protesting.
I haven't been in touch with this person for more than a year. This dream aroused very powerful feelings. A deep concern, a want/need to protect her... and then, ultimately, also a deep need to protect MYSELF, to avoid being profoundly misunderstood.
Only in Austin?
"Daily Digest" group e-mail today from my apartment complex:
Can the person who took the faux mini guillotine from the red basket by my door please return it as it was for someone else to pick up.
Can the person who took the faux mini guillotine from the red basket by my door please return it as it was for someone else to pick up.
Sunday, August 18, 2019
Making My Bed (and now being able to lie in it!)
My bed has been a no-go zone since around May, when the kittens (born April 6) first ventured out from underneath it, to on top of it, to begin peeing on it---on the comforter, on the top part of the sheets, on the bottom of the pillows. I thought the pee would never end. As it turned out: Mini Solomon, initially the main pee-problem, has long since grown out of it. But in the meantime, the pee-stained bedding sat there; I have been sleeping on the couch ALL of the time to avoid dealing with it.
This weekend, though, I slept all day Saturday, then got up around 4pm determined to do EVERY bit of my wash: comforter, bed-pad, sheets, pillow cases, throw-blanket. Luckily, the apartment laundry was completely empty, all 4 washers to myself in the heat of the afternoon. After about 3 hours, I got everything (all bedding plus 3-weeks'-worth of clothes) done. I don't know that the comforter got that clean: I stuffed it into a small washer when I should have either taken it to a laundromat with an industrial-sized washer or to a dry cleaner's. Still: I did SOMETHING with it. And now my bed is (pretty much) fresh/cat-pee-free and ready for Fall (with the brown sheets instead of the red or burgundy; changing sheet hue according to season has always been my poor-girl's idea of...not "class" but rather simply "having enough money to own 3 or 4 sets of sheets instead of just 1 and being able to change them out accordingly"---like finally owning several pairs of white pants and shoes, in the past considered "extra," and looking forward to wearing them during the "official" 3-months summer season).
In the fall and winter, I'm looking forward to sleeping with all of the cats in the much-more-spacious bed. Right now, couch-wise, Solomon gets on my chest when I'm reading, then, when I turn out the light and turn on my side, settles on my hip --- he/she stays there for 3 or 4 hours at a time. Which is very sweet, but NOT when I'm trying to toss and turn and get settled. Hopefully the bigger bed will give everyone, including me, space to stretch out.
This weekend, though, I slept all day Saturday, then got up around 4pm determined to do EVERY bit of my wash: comforter, bed-pad, sheets, pillow cases, throw-blanket. Luckily, the apartment laundry was completely empty, all 4 washers to myself in the heat of the afternoon. After about 3 hours, I got everything (all bedding plus 3-weeks'-worth of clothes) done. I don't know that the comforter got that clean: I stuffed it into a small washer when I should have either taken it to a laundromat with an industrial-sized washer or to a dry cleaner's. Still: I did SOMETHING with it. And now my bed is (pretty much) fresh/cat-pee-free and ready for Fall (with the brown sheets instead of the red or burgundy; changing sheet hue according to season has always been my poor-girl's idea of...not "class" but rather simply "having enough money to own 3 or 4 sets of sheets instead of just 1 and being able to change them out accordingly"---like finally owning several pairs of white pants and shoes, in the past considered "extra," and looking forward to wearing them during the "official" 3-months summer season).
In the fall and winter, I'm looking forward to sleeping with all of the cats in the much-more-spacious bed. Right now, couch-wise, Solomon gets on my chest when I'm reading, then, when I turn out the light and turn on my side, settles on my hip --- he/she stays there for 3 or 4 hours at a time. Which is very sweet, but NOT when I'm trying to toss and turn and get settled. Hopefully the bigger bed will give everyone, including me, space to stretch out.
Blue Oyster Cult: Joan Crawford (1981)
The junkies down in Brooklyn are going crazy
They're laughing just like hungry dogs in the street
Policemen are hiding behind the skirts of little girls
Their eyes have turned the color of frozen meat
No, no no no, no no no no no no no no,
Joan Crawford has risen from the grave
Joan Crawford has risen from the grave
Catholic schoolgirls have thrown away their mascara
They chain themselves to the axles of big Mack trucks
The sky is filled with hurt and shivering angels
The fat lady lives! Children, start your trucks
No, no no no, no no no no no no no no
Joan Crawford has risen from the grave
Joan Crawford has risen from the grave
(Christina, mother's home!
No, no
Christina
No, no, no, no
Come to Mother
No, no, no, no, no no no no no no
Christina)
Joan Crawford has risen from the grave
They're laughing just like hungry dogs in the street
Policemen are hiding behind the skirts of little girls
Their eyes have turned the color of frozen meat
No, no no no, no no no no no no no no,
Joan Crawford has risen from the grave
Joan Crawford has risen from the grave
Catholic schoolgirls have thrown away their mascara
They chain themselves to the axles of big Mack trucks
The sky is filled with hurt and shivering angels
The fat lady lives! Children, start your trucks
No, no no no, no no no no no no no no
Joan Crawford has risen from the grave
Joan Crawford has risen from the grave
(Christina, mother's home!
No, no
Christina
No, no, no, no
Come to Mother
No, no, no, no, no no no no no no
Christina)
Joan Crawford has risen from the grave
Saturday, August 17, 2019
George Jones: The Very Best Of Me (1986)
If I should die before I wake
Darling to this world I will donate
Give my dry lips to Jack Daniels
Give the jukebox both my ears
Plant one foot in Texas one in Tennessee
and send my back side to my ex wife
tell her to seal it with a kiss
Girl, I'm leaving you the very best of me
I don't see why anyone would want my old bloodshot brown eyes
My old heart is gone and full of memories
But I'll donate all my parts to any other body that's in need
But girl, I'm leaving you the very best of me
So, give my dry lips to Jack Daniels
Give the jukebox both my ears
Plant one foot in Texas one in Tennessee
and send my back side to my ex wife
tell her to seal it with a kiss
But I'm leaving you the very best of me
Now when I stop and think
about the thing that I know I'm going to leave behind
I ain't got much of anything a body needs
But I'm leaving you sweet memories of our days and nights of love
Girl, I'm leaving you the very best of me
Give my dry lips to Jack Daniels
Give the jukebox both my ears
Plant one foot in Texas one in Tennessee
and send my back side to my ex wife
tell her to seal it with a kiss
But I'm leaving you the very best of me
Oh baby you've always had the very best of me
Darling to this world I will donate
Give my dry lips to Jack Daniels
Give the jukebox both my ears
Plant one foot in Texas one in Tennessee
and send my back side to my ex wife
tell her to seal it with a kiss
Girl, I'm leaving you the very best of me
I don't see why anyone would want my old bloodshot brown eyes
My old heart is gone and full of memories
But I'll donate all my parts to any other body that's in need
But girl, I'm leaving you the very best of me
So, give my dry lips to Jack Daniels
Give the jukebox both my ears
Plant one foot in Texas one in Tennessee
and send my back side to my ex wife
tell her to seal it with a kiss
But I'm leaving you the very best of me
Now when I stop and think
about the thing that I know I'm going to leave behind
I ain't got much of anything a body needs
But I'm leaving you sweet memories of our days and nights of love
Girl, I'm leaving you the very best of me
Give my dry lips to Jack Daniels
Give the jukebox both my ears
Plant one foot in Texas one in Tennessee
and send my back side to my ex wife
tell her to seal it with a kiss
But I'm leaving you the very best of me
Oh baby you've always had the very best of me
Wednesday, August 14, 2019
George Jones: I'm a Long Gone Daddy (1987)
A re-make of Hank Williams' 1947 hit.
Well, all you want to do is sit around and pout
And now I've got enough and I'm a-steppin' out
I'm leavin' now, hey, I'm leavin' now
Yeah, I'm a long gone daddy I don't need you anyhow
Lord, I've been in the doghouse so doggone long
That when I get a kiss I think that somethin's wrong
So I'm leavin' now, hey, I'm leavin' now
'Cause I'm a long gone daddy I don't need you anyhow
I'll go find a gal that wants to treat me right
You go get yourself a man that wants to fuss and fight
So I'm leavin' now, hey, I'm leavin' now
'Cause I'm a long gone daddy I don't need you anyhow
Lord, you start your jaws a waggin' and they never stop
You never hush your mouth until I blow my top
So I'm leavin' now, hey, I'm leavin' now
Yeah, I'm a long gone daddy I don't need you anyhow
I remember back when you were nice and sweet
Things have changed you'd rather fight than eat
So I'm leavin' now, yeah, I'm leavin' now
'Cause I'm a long gone daddy I don't need you anyhow
Yeah, I'm gonna do some ridin' on the midnight train
I'm taking ev'rything except my ball and chain
Well, I'm leavin' now, I'm leavin' now
'Cause I'm a long gone daddy I don't need you anyhow
Hey, I'm a long gone daddy I don't need you anyhow...
Well, all you want to do is sit around and pout
And now I've got enough and I'm a-steppin' out
I'm leavin' now, hey, I'm leavin' now
Yeah, I'm a long gone daddy I don't need you anyhow
Lord, I've been in the doghouse so doggone long
That when I get a kiss I think that somethin's wrong
So I'm leavin' now, hey, I'm leavin' now
'Cause I'm a long gone daddy I don't need you anyhow
I'll go find a gal that wants to treat me right
You go get yourself a man that wants to fuss and fight
So I'm leavin' now, hey, I'm leavin' now
'Cause I'm a long gone daddy I don't need you anyhow
Lord, you start your jaws a waggin' and they never stop
You never hush your mouth until I blow my top
So I'm leavin' now, hey, I'm leavin' now
Yeah, I'm a long gone daddy I don't need you anyhow
I remember back when you were nice and sweet
Things have changed you'd rather fight than eat
So I'm leavin' now, yeah, I'm leavin' now
'Cause I'm a long gone daddy I don't need you anyhow
Yeah, I'm gonna do some ridin' on the midnight train
I'm taking ev'rything except my ball and chain
Well, I'm leavin' now, I'm leavin' now
'Cause I'm a long gone daddy I don't need you anyhow
Hey, I'm a long gone daddy I don't need you anyhow...
Monday, August 12, 2019
George Jones: Moments of Brilliance (1987)
I wasn't the smart one in class
And I wasn't the one who ran fast
I begin things then I don't follow through
But I have moments of brilliance with you
There are times when I'm flawless, perfection itself
There are times when I'm even amazed at myself
I'll admit it my talents are few
But I have moments of brilliance with you
I can't draw lines that look straight
I live life a half hour late
As a lover, I'm average, it's true
But I have moments of brilliance with you
There are times when I'm flawless, perfection itself
There are times when I'm even amazed at myself
I'll admit it my talents are few
But I have moments of brilliance with you
Moments of brilliance with you...
Sunday, August 11, 2019
Willie Nelson "Always On My Mind" (1982)
Willie-the-Priestly version. (Emotion recollected in tranquillity.)
Elvis Presley "Always On My Mind"
My favorite raw, heart-breaking version. (Released in 1972, a few weeks after his separation from his wife. He died 5 years later.)
Tammy Wynette "Always On My Mind"
This could have been great sung from the woman's perspective. But... Tammy doesn't seem sincere at all.
In the week leading up to my birthday...
In years past, I've ALWAYS felt good, even when crappy things were going on. I've always felt somehow "cleansed" in August.
Not this year, though. Don't know why. Just getting old?
A week ago, I had to drive way across town for 30 minutes, taking 2 unfamiliar highways. (Usually "my world" pretty much consists of a 5-mile radius: work is 2 miles away, the grocery store is 2 miles away, etc.)
The day after this stressful trek, I woke up with a UTI (urinary tract infection) that has since not gone away after a week. The last time I got a UTI was the last time I had sex, which is a very long time ago! And even then, the thing cleared up in a couple of days. (Recommended cures for UTIs: Wash, wipe front to back, drink lots of water and/or cranberry juice. I've done all of these things!)
This past week, though, I've gone from severe pain, to aches and pains, to relief, and then back to severe pain/aches and pains again. Gotta work in the midst of all of this.
So, no, August hasn't been great so far. I've just been grateful for the moments of respite from the pain. And scared: As I get older, THIS is my future? Being grateful for respites from pain?
In my youth, my battles were mental...I'm now getting an inkling of the far-more-serious stuff that's in store for me.
Not this year, though. Don't know why. Just getting old?
A week ago, I had to drive way across town for 30 minutes, taking 2 unfamiliar highways. (Usually "my world" pretty much consists of a 5-mile radius: work is 2 miles away, the grocery store is 2 miles away, etc.)
The day after this stressful trek, I woke up with a UTI (urinary tract infection) that has since not gone away after a week. The last time I got a UTI was the last time I had sex, which is a very long time ago! And even then, the thing cleared up in a couple of days. (Recommended cures for UTIs: Wash, wipe front to back, drink lots of water and/or cranberry juice. I've done all of these things!)
This past week, though, I've gone from severe pain, to aches and pains, to relief, and then back to severe pain/aches and pains again. Gotta work in the midst of all of this.
So, no, August hasn't been great so far. I've just been grateful for the moments of respite from the pain. And scared: As I get older, THIS is my future? Being grateful for respites from pain?
In my youth, my battles were mental...I'm now getting an inkling of the far-more-serious stuff that's in store for me.
Tuesday, August 06, 2019
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